The Great Battle fo Varrdenfel Ch 2
by MINDSCREAM
Summary: The Daedric cult has launched a small skirmish against the Army of the Gods to try and keep them off their terrritory. Rated M for strong violence. First Ch. rated T. Read it first.


The Great Battle of Varrdenfel Ch. 2

"Unnnnnh…." Jev'erra groaned as he awoke. The sun was beating down on him, causing him to sweat.

Altran entered the room. "Come on, ready yourself. The enemy has come out of hiding." He was already geared up, sword drawn.

"I will hurry," Jev'erra said, but Altran was already gone. He got up, clothed himself, and groaned as he realized he was experiencing a hangover. Altran never drank heavily, said it ruined his mind. Ruined the fun, Jev'erra thought. After he finished putting on his armor, he picked up his sword, now cleaned of blood, and headed out to meet the king.

The king and Altran were standing behind line of infantry and pike men. Behind them were archers. Not an impressive amount, but all thought weren't killed or wounded. This war will cost them greatly by the time it's over.

"Jev'erra, how went your sleep? Good, I hope," said the king. "This morning priests, Dremora, and Summoned creatures marched out of their stronghold. We readied as many as possible, given the time. We need you and Altran to lead our men uphill, directly into those— He was cut off as stones and large boulders were hurled by magic into the air and upon the awaiting troops.

"Charge!" Altran was already ahead of the soldiers, leading them dead ahead straight into the ranks of enemy soldiers.

"Target those mages!" shouted Jev'erra as the archers began knocking arrows. He ran ahead, no time to summon anything, watching helplessly as Dremora and Daedra cut through the advancing soldiers. Arrows flew through the air, killing most of the mages. Boulders still rained upon the troops and all around Jev'erra. He stopped one short using magic and hurled it back up the mountain, pulverizing a small squad of priests.

He then sprinted as fast as he could, trying to catch up with the fight to help his soldiers. They were holding, mostly, but Jev'erra wanted to be there to help them fight and to boost their morale.

Altran seemed to be fending for himself. He always said the soldiers were pathetic. Jev'erra had to take the role of leader. He finally reached the soldiers, panting. They were fighting fiercely, although the Daedra were overwhelming them little by little.

"Form a line!" called Jev'erra. The soldiers scrambled into a meandering formation. "Arms!" Then they lowered their weapons to point toward the enemy. The Daedra ran straight into the defensive line. Most of the priests stayed back and waited. When the Daedric monsters were wiped out, the small battalion charged without Jev'erra having to say anything.

Jev'erra jumped in the lead, knowing it was dangerous to let soldiers move irrationally, for they would soon get themselves killed. But he did not stop them from fighting. They slew them all, loving it, embracing their hate of the enemy.

Long ago, Jev'erra had learned to fight with an unconscious mind. He let his body move freely, letting his hands do the work. He let his subconscious mind control, moving him, letting him do amazing things, acting the impossible acts. Everything seemed to go by slowly when he entered this state. He thought clearly, though, thinking of every man's horror-stricken face and every creature's color of blood as they fell to the ground screaming.

He wondered (as he was slicing off a clannfear's leg, then decapitating it), if that was similar to what the soldiers were doing now. They fought fiercely, grim expressions on all their faces. If that was what they were doing, they might stand a chance in this war of all wars.

They continued their charge up the mountain, blood forming a small stream down the slope. They spotted many twisted bodies that had been gored and sliced. Body parts were strung about, blood still fresh.

They finally reached the lair's entrance. Altran was sitting down on a rock, cleaning his armor and sword. "What took you so long?"

Jev'erra ignored the question, annoyed at the humor of his friend. The soldiers, still tensed, looked around them nervously. "At ease," said Jev'erra, "We are safe…for the moment." The tenseness on the soldiers' faces eased away, but they still glanced around every now and then while they rested from the hard-won victory.

Some time later the king arrived, nine guards surrounding him. When they reached Altran and Jev'erra, they separated from him in the front of the formation, allowing him to speak. "I congratulate you, my honored men. Come, join me in tonight's feast."

Later that night, Altran and Jev'erra sat at the king's left and right seats, eating until their stomachs bulged with fullness. After the meal was over, and all the men and the king were loafing about, sharing stories of back home and trying to bribe another drink off of the bartender, drunk and sick with the mix of a lot of food and alcohol, Jev'erra stepped outside. Altran was sitting on a small boulder, sharpening his knife.

"I thought I would find you, away from everyone else," said Jev'erra.

"It is peaceful out here."

"Yes."

Altran stood up, knees popping. "Rest easy tonight," he said as he left Jev'erra standing alone. Jev'erra wondered often what might have occurred in Altran's life that would have shaped him into such a gloom figure. If he had never been loved by a parent, or if he had even known his parents. Oh well, he was tired right now and didn't want to think about it.


End file.
